Making A Stand
by btyrhrtout
Summary: A series of short chapters in which we see where different characters are on the evening just prior to the Battle of Hogwarts, and how they are alerted to fight.
1. Bill & Fleur

"_We all thought that if you came back, it would mean a revolution._

_That we were going to overthrow Snape and the Carrows."_

_--_Neville Longbottom

A heavy rain was falling, clearing out the mist but only adding to the chill in the air. Bill could hear it drumming steadily on the pitched roof and dripping off the eaves, but it was warm and dry inside Shell Cottage. He was sprawled on the sofa in front of a lively fire, feet on the coffee table.

Fleur was curled up next to him, snoring lightly. He chuckled as he listened to her whistling respirations and tiny snorts. If he ever told her, she would insist that she did not snore, but that wouldn't be accurate. She did, frequently. He found it to be cute.

She stirred against, then sat up, blinking her eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, I must have fallen asleep."

"It's all right."

"What, what iz it zat you are smiling at?"

"You were snoring."

She narrowed her eyes at him, affronted. "I do many t'ings, Bill Weasley, but I do _not _snore."

Instead of responding, he just smiled and took her hand in his. It was very small, and warm. Slowly, he traced the soft skin on the back of her hand with the tip of his finger, running it along each long finger and over the smooth, rounded nails. He loved her.

"Fleur?"

"Yes?"

He squeezed her hand and held it between both of his. "When this is all over, what would you say about having a baby?"

She did not answer right away, just regarded him with her large eyes. After a long time, a smile appeared on her face, but it was not a happy one. "Yes, I would like zat very much."

"Me too." He pulled her close to him, planting a kiss on her forehead. Her expression was clear, though-- she didn't ever expect the war to be over. "This will all be done soon. I promise."

"But 'ow do you know?"

"I trust Harry."

She sat up very straight and looked at him full in the face. There were tears in her eyes, but her voice was almost angry. "I know that 'arry is a very strong person, but 'e iz a _child_. Just a boy. And where 'as 'e been, Bill? Why 'asn't anyone 'eard from 'im, or Ron, or 'ermione?"

"Dumbledore gave them something they have to finish. When they do it, we'll know."

"Yes. I suppose you are right." she said, but then a long sigh escaped from between her pursued lips; a hopeless, defeated sound.

For awhile, the only sound was the unbroken rhythm of the rain and the occasional pop of wood in the grate. Both sat in silence on the sofa as the dancing flames cast surreal prints of light and shadow all around the dark room.

It was only a few days before that the house had hosted refugees from Malfoy Manor-- Harry, Hermione, and Ron, Luna, Dean, Ollivander, and the strange little goblin. Outside, in the tiny garden by the sea, Dobby's grave was marked by a large, flat white rock. Without them, the little house seemed very quiet and very alone, lost between the crashing of the sea on the rocks below, the bellowing of the wind above, and the pounding of the driving rain all around.

After a long time, Fleur shifted and then got to her feet.

"Where are you going?" Bill asked.

"To bed." she responded quietly. Before she could get too far, though, he reached up and grabbed her wrist.

"Tell me… are you afraid?"

Her voice was barely a whisper. "_Oui_."

"Of what?"

"You're being silly. What do you t'ink I am afraid of? You-Know-'oo--"

"No, I mean… what do you think is going to happen?" He tightened his grip on her wrist. For reasons he could not explain, it was imperative that he know what was in her head. That she voice her worst fears to him.

She looked at him, brows furrowed. "I am afraid that 'arry iz dead, and we are just sitting 'ere, waiting, to be next. I am afraid that 'e will kill us all, and that there will be no one left to make a stand."

He stood up and wrapped his arms around her, wanting desperately not only to protect her, but to instil some sort of hope back into her. "I won't let that happen."

"Ah Bill, I am not sure zat you will 'ave a choice."

Her arms snaked around his waist, and she held him tight. Bill kissed the top of her head, then set his chin onto her silky, sweet-smelling hair. By chance, his gaze swept over the far wall.

It was then that he noticed a curious light in the window. At first, he thought it was lightening, but it did not flash and fade. He watched as it grew brighter by the second, finally letting go of his wife and hurrying to the casement. Once there, he drew back the curtain and peered out into the night.

Outside, all was still very dark, and water was still falling from the roof just beyond the glass, but there was something moving quickly in the sky-- a bright, silvery light.

"What iz it?" Fleur asked, appearing at the window next to him. They watched, stunned, as the light streaked through the clouds and into their window. Dumbfounded, they both turned and stared in silence as the beam resolved into a bright, silvery terrier that stood on the carpet in their sitting room.

"Oi, we're inside the castle." it said in Ron's voice, wagging its' spectral tail. "Harry's here, I'm here, there's a bunch of-- well, anyway, come on. Apparate right into the Hogs' Head, Aberforth'll be there to direct you. We're fighting."

Bill's heart leapt into his throat as he watched the dog fade to hoary swirls of vapour, then disappear completely. He turned to his wife, who looked just as astounded as he felt, mouth hanging half open and eyes wide. Without warning, she broke for the stairs.

"Where are you going?" he shouted as she scrambled towards the upper floor.

"To change!" she called back. "I need to wear pants if we are going to fight!"

Hardly hearing the thumps and swears from above, he pulled on his travelling cloak and checked his pocket repeatedly for his wand. As an afterthought, he extinguished the flames in the hearth-- no sense in burning down the house while they were gone. A moment later, Fleur came thundering back down the stairs.

"_Lumos!"_ she called, holding her wand aloft. He could see that she had traded her skirt for pants, fastened her own travelling cloak around her neck, and tied her long silver-blonde hair back into a ponytail. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, and when she reached his side, he could feel the anticipation radiating off of her.

"Do you want to go stay with your parents?" he said teasingly.

"_Ta gueule!_" she spat, drawing herself up to her full height. _"_I stand by your side. I fight as well." she said, holding her slender rosewood wand in front of her like a sword.

"All right." he replied, pulling his own alder wand from his pocket and clutching it tightly. "Come on."

Together, they ran out the front door into the deluge, holding their cloaks over their heads. They hurried across the flooded grass and through the garden gate, past the protective enchantments that surrounded Shell Cottage.

"Here!" Bill called into the night, catching hold of his wife. She clung to his side and together they turned on the spot, disappearing into the air with a tiny pop that was lost in the sound of the storm.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I forwent updating my other chapter story, "Winter", to post the first chapter of this bad boy. I like doing "missing moments" from JK's books-- it's fun to write about the characters that she's since killed off while not stepping all over canon. Sometimes I forget details and can't find them on the HP lexicon, or the HP wiki, so, if you notice any glaring errors, please let me know.


	2. Lupin

"_Fight! Fight! Fight for my Master, defender of house-elves! _

_Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus! Fight!_"

_--_Kreacher

"There's nothing left."

"Nothing?"

Andromeda Tonks, looking dreadfully pale and tired, closed the cupboard door and turned to her son-in-law. "Half a loaf of stale bread…. I'm sorry. I… I don't know what happened."

"Don't-- please, don't be sorry." Lupin said, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table and helping her to sit down. "There's three of us here, it's not only up to you to notice when supplies are running low."

"No, I should have known. I have my children here--"

"Andromeda. Stop, please. Dora and I aren't children. We've all just been so busy with the baby and with… everything. It's all right."

He walked into the dark foyer and re-appeared a moment later with his worn, patched cloak on. She looked up at him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get us provisions. Is there anything in particular you'd be keen on?" he asked with excessive casualness, flipping up his hood. With his face in shadow, he looked like an old man.

The expression on her face turned from confusion to panic as she rose from the table. "Remus, no! Please, no, there's still Snatchers out there, you'll be killed!" She grabbed for his cloak, pulling at it, making the hood slip off. Gently, he took her hands in his and removed them from his clothing, guiding her back into the chair at the same time.

"I'll be fine, really. It'll only take me a little while to go into the Muggle village and pick up some things. I'll be back within the hour."

"No, no! Don't go, please!"

"Go where? What's going on? Remus, why are you dressed to go out?"

Tonks shuffled into the kitchen at that moment, in a stained bathrobe and bare feet. She, too, looked exhausted and washed out. Her pink hair was faded, and looked as though it hadn't been washed in several days.

"Where's Teddy?" he asked.

"Asleep in the cot. I was well on my way to nodding off too, but then I realized I'm hungry."

He smiled sheepishly at her. "Can you wait a little while, love? I off to the village for some supplies."

"Yeah? What, did we run out of food?" she asked, sitting down at the table and laying her head on her mother's shoulder. Andromeda gave a strangled little cry. "'S'alright, Mum, don't fret about it. I don't even know what day of the week it is."

"Remus, please, don't go. Don't leave Nymphadora, something will happen to you like it… like it happened to T-Ted!" She burst into tears.

"Shhhh, Mum." Tonks said soothingly, wrapping her arms around her mother and kissing her shoulder. She looked up at Lupin as she stroked Andromeda's hair. "Go on." she mouthed, jerking her head minutely towards the door.

"I'll be back shortly." he said quietly, flipping his hood up once more and slipping out of the house.

The night was surprisingly clear and seasonably mild as he set off. The damp, chilly mists of the breeding Dementors were mysteriously-- yet mercifully-- absent. He made his way through the gate in the low stone wall separating the Tonks' land from the road, then turned to the north and headed towards the Muggle village.

A sliver of silvery-white moon lit his way through the dark, still countryside. A light breeze, barely strong enough to stir the leaves in the trees, freshened the air across his face. There was something in the atmosphere, some sort of undetectable current in the air. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something streak rapidly across the star-strewn sky. He blinked, and it was gone.

The narrow road was bordered by beech trees on the left, and fieldstone walls on the right, cutting farms and fields into neat parcels and keeping crops off the motorway. Lupin stayed to the left, moving steadily through the protective shadows cast by the trees. Every hundred or so paces, he stopped, listening for any sign of movement or indication of danger, before continuing on again.

Just outside of the village, he paused, almost hidden near the trunk of a large beech. Something was moving, quite nearby. It seemed to have stopped just as he did, and the silence unnerved him. As he marked the passing seconds with each beat of his heart, a twig snapped somewhere just behind him, and he spun towards the sound.

"_Stupefy!_" he called, pulling his wand from beneath his cloak. The spell missed, but, in the scarlet light that flashed from his wand, he saw, not a Death Eater, but a large badger crashing through the underbrush, obviously having been frightened away by his overreaction.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, he stowed the wand back inside his cloak and hurried forth. It was the work of only a few more minutes to bring him to the outskirts of the village. Once he passed within the boundaries, he pushed back his hood and headed for the centre of town.

The brightly lit and almost deserted store was easy to locate, as it was one of the only establishments still open, other than a decrepit-looking pub across the square. Just inside the sliding glass door, which was covered in smudges and fingerprints, he collected a shopping basket and drifted down the aisles, selecting things as he went. Bread, tea, sugar, rice, eggs, a packet of bacon, biscuits-- almost everything looked appealing, as he hadn't eaten since breakfast, and it wasn't long before he was loaded down. A bright orange box of breakfast cereal went into the basket as well. He was seriously debating whether or not a carton of ice cream would melt before he got it home when a sullen-looking shop girl wearing too much eyeliner and an unbecoming green smock shuffled up the aisle towards him.

"We're closing now, sir." she said. "Please finish your shopping and bring your purchases to the front."

"Of course."

He left the ice cream but collected two containers of milk, stowing them under his arm as he made his way up to the register. The clerk was picking at her fingernails, and continued to do so as he placed his items on the counter. Finally, she looked up.

"Didja find everything all right?" she mumbled, tapping keys on the register and dropping his purchases into a paper bag.

"Fine, thank you."

"That'll be £8.76." she said, almost dropping the carton of eggs as she swung it into the bag.

Now came the part Lupin hated. He reached into his cloak like he was reaching for a wallet, but pulled out his wand instead. The girl's face contorted, surprised, but before she could react further, he pointed it at her and mouthed the incantation. Her eyes became faraway and unfocused. After tucking the wand back under his cloak, he picked up his bag.

"Thank you." he said pointedly. "Have a good evening."

"Thank you. Come again." the girl said dreamily.

As he was crossing the square outside of the store, the lights turned off behind him. The girl had apparently regained what little sense she had originally possessed and begun to close up shop. Once on the narrow street that would take him back out to the countryside, and to the Tonks' house, he paused beneath a burned-out street lamp and lifted his hood over his head once again.

Back out on the road, a wispy scrap of cloud now obscured the moon. Lupin hurried along, still keeping to the shadowy side of the road that was protected by canopies of beech trees. His footsteps were barely audible on the road, but the paper bag in his arms was cumbersome and noisy, crinkling loudly with each movement.

Ahead, in the distance, he could see the bright headlights of a car, coming towards him at a high rate of speed. He stepped off of the pavement onto the grassy shoulder beneath the trees, waiting for the car to pass by. However, as it came nearer, he realized that it was not a car at all, but a large, silvery stag. His heart skipped a beat and, though his first thought had been of James, he recognized this Patronus as belonging to Harry. He stepped out from the shadows.

The stag cantered to a stop a few metres from him. It held its head up high, antlers stretching towards the sky. When it opened its mouth, it spoke with Harry's voice.

"We're inside Hogwarts. Get to the Hog's Head as quick as you can. I may need your help-- we're going to fight."

A chill ran up Lupin's spine as he watched the stage fade into thin air. _Fighting_, he thought excitedly. _The devil with that-- winning!_ He let out a manic sort of laugh and set off at a run for Tonks' mother's house, his parcel no longer feeling heavy at all.

* * *

**Author's Note: **There's a show on TV about NoFX. They're in Singapore and snorting... ice cream? Wasabi? It's all very strange.


	3. George & Fred

"_We're fighting."_

--Harry Potter

"Fred? George?" Aunt Muriel's raspy voice echoed up the attic stairs. The twins were working by candlelight, filling the steady trickle of orders that had come in by owl earlier in the day. They had taken refuge in the stuffy, dusty space solely because Muriel could not climb the narrow, rickety staircase and hassle them.

"Do you hear something, Fred?" George asked, tearing open an envelope and shaking out an order form and a small pile of Sickles.

"Not a thing, George." replied Fred, dropping a packet of Ton-Tongue Toffees into a small cardboard box and Spellotaping it shut.

"Fred! George!" Her voice was louder now, and they could hear her tapping her cane against the floor impatiently. Still, they ignored her. Fred packed another box-- this one with a shaker of Bulbadox powder and three Decoy Detonators-- while George opened another envelope.

"Miserable old buzzard." Fred muttered, tossing the Spellotape to his brother, who had just torn an order form clean in half.

"I wonder how long it'll be before she threatens to write us out of her will again." George replied under his breath, pasting the form back together.

"I give it another minute."

They exchanged devilish grins and went back to their work. Though their shop had been shuttered for weeks now, it seemed as though they were just as busy as ever. Owl orders arrived at all hours, and the twins endeavoured to have them complete and with a return owl within twenty-four hours. Right now, they were averaging a turnaround time of about three hours. There was not a lot to do at Muriel's house.

The tapping of Muriel's' cane grew steadily louder. "Fred! George!" she screeched shrilly. "I know you're up there! I may be a hundred and eight, but there's still time to re-distribute your inheritances!"

"As if she hasn't already." Fred whispered to George, then hopped to his feet. "Coming!" he called towards the stairs, dusting himself off as George got up as well.

When they arrived foot of the stairs, they found Aunt Muriel standing in the hallway, scowling at them from over the top of her ancient cat-eye glasses. George gave her a winning smile, while Fred hid his smirk behind his hand. "Did you call for us, Auntie Muriel?"

"Don't say that like you're surprised, boy, I know you could hear me! I thought you were going to make me come up those stairs. At my age, with my rheumatism-- I ought to smack the both of you upside the head with my walking stick!" She narrowed her eyes as Fred let out a bark of laughter, which he covered up with a coughing fit. "That's some cheek, George Weasley, laughing at your great aunt--"

"I'm Fred, Aunt Muriel."

"Oh. Well, if it wasn't for the goodness of my heart--"

George cleared his throat, but it sounded suspiciously like the word "bollocks."

" -- you'd both be wandering the streets, fighting off Death Eaters and Dementors every other hour! The least you could do is--"

"I'm really very sorry, Aunt Muriel." Fred said sweetly. "We were just so busy filling our orders, we must not have heard you. What can we help you with?"

She squinted at Fred with one eye. "You must think I've gone completely gormless in my old age, George--"

"Fred."

"Oh. Well, if you think I believe that claptrap about you not hearing me because you're hard at work, you're even duller than you look. Anyway!" she barked. "I smell something burning."

"Burning?" George asked.

"Yes, burning, you great imbecile! I assume that, in your many years of study under Dumbledore, he did manage to tell you what 'burning' meant!"

"He might have mentioned it, once or twice. Along with something called a wand." Fred quipped. Beside him, George snickered into his fist. Muriel only rapped the tip of her cane firmly on the floor.

"Good then!" she snapped. "Now, find it!"

"Perhaps if you told us the _source_ of the burning smell--"

"If I knew the source, Fred--"

"I'm George."

"Fine then, _George_, if I knew the source, I would have already solved the problem!" With that, she stalked off down the gloomy hall, muttering under her breath. The occasional snippets-- "like rabbits" and "unnatural"-- made their way back to the twins before she disappeared into her bedroom at the top of the hall, slamming the door behind her.

Fred and George looked at each other and broke up, laughing as quietly as they could into their hands. Once they had finished, they turned to go back up into the attic. George, however, paused on the bottom step, inhaling deeply.

"You know something, Fred, I do smell something burning."

It was Fred's turn to sniff the air. "Yeah, I smell it too. How much you want to bet the old bag left the kettle in the fire?"

George considered. "I'm willing to go in a Sickle that it's not the kettle-- I think she put the cat in the oven by mistake."

"A Sickle? Are you feeling ill?"

"All right, all right. A Galleon, then."

"You're on."

The twins headed into the kitchen, only to discover that it was not the cat nor the kettle-- in fact, they could not find any evidence of anything amiss. There was no fire in the hearth, the oven was cool, the cat was sleeping-- fully intact-- on the windowsill. In fact, the smell was hardly noticeable in the kitchen.

"That's odd. Do you think it's our candles in the attic?" Fred asked.

"I hope not-- we have an awful lot of merchandise up there."

They hurried back into the attic, but there was nothing there, either. "Just to be safe." Fred said, extinguishing the candles with a flick of his wand. Puzzled, they went back down the stairs, into the hallway just outside of the small bedroom they had been sharing since arriving at Muriel's house.

"D'ya smell that? It smells like it's coming from in here." George said, pushing open the door. Immediately, the smell grew stronger. In the corner, on the chest of drawers, a thin ribbon of smoke was issuing from a pile of Galleons, which were glowing orange.

"Merlin's pants!" Fred vaulted over the beds in two leaps and pointed his wand at the coins. "_Aguamenti!_" A stream of water issued from his wand and landed on the coins, which popped and hissed as they were extinguished, leaving a steaming pile of Galleons on the wet, burned tabletop.

George swept the Galleons into his hand, leaving a charred, Galleon-sized circle on the top of the chest of drawers. "What the.…" he trailed off, letting all the Galleons except for one fall to the floor. "Fred, look." He displayed the remaining coin between his fingers. "It's-- it's our DA Galleon."

"Lemme see that!"

Fred grabbed it from George's fingers and held it up so they could both see. _H/R/H inside Hogwarts_, it read. _Apparate into Hog's Head. Directions there. Tonight we fight back._

Their eyes met above the Galleon, two identical expressions of anticipation mixed with apprehension on their faces. "Wicked."


	4. Tonks

"_And what if we want to stay and fight?_"

-- Ernie Macmillan

Tonks was dozing in the rocking chair by the window. There was some sort of commotion, but it was very far away from the cool, dark room where she held her sleeping son on her lap. From below, there was a quick, loud sound, much like the door slamming. Teddy stirred against her belly, and she opened her eyes. Outside, the moon was glowing behind a wisp of cloud, casting a dreamy glow over the quiet land. In the baby's room, everything was veiled in deep, inviting blue shadows.

She shifted and slowly got to her feet, with the intention of putting Teddy in the cot and falling onto her own bed, passing into a deep and dreamless sleep until her son's cries and heavy, aching breasts woke her in a few hours. There was another sound then, and it sounded like feet on the stairs. Curious now, she laid the sleeping infant down and stepped into the hallway. Lupin was on the top stair, a wild look on his face. Andromeda stood on the bottom of the staircase, looking heartsick.

"What, what is it?" Tonks asked, suddenly alarmed.

He looked up as he stepped onto the landing, apparently surprised to see her. "Dora!"

"Remus, what's the matter? Are there Snatchers?" She looked from him to her mother, confused.

"What? Snatchers? No, not at all--"

"Where's the groceries, then?"

"Downstairs. Nymphadora, I met Harry's Patronus on the road. They're inside Hogwarts-- we're going to fight!" he said excitedly, grabbing her forearms in his hands.

"Hogwarts? Fight?" The words suddenly made sense, and a broad smile appeared on her tired face. Her hair was rapidly brightening to the same shade of bubblegum pink it had been when she was able to sleep more than two or three hours at a time. "Well, what are we waiting for, then? Let's go!"

"Dora, wait--"

"Oh!" In all the excitement, she had forgotten that she'd been wearing the same milk-and-spit-up stained nightgown for the past three days. "Yes, let me change!" She hurried into the small bedroom at the end of the hall to remedy the situation.

As she was pulling her Weird Sisters t-shirt over her head, Lupin entered the room, a strange expression on his face. "Dora, perhaps you misunderstood me... I meant... Well, I meant that _I'll_ be going to Hogwarts to fight."

She stopped in the act of wrestling with a pair of her pre-pregnancy jeans. "What do you mean? What will I be doing?"

He looked embarrassed. "Well, you'll be staying here, with Teddy."

They looked at each other across the small, messy bedroom. Then she laughed. "Don't be silly. Teddy'll be fine with Mum. I've been waiting my whole life for this; why do you think I became an Auror? Not so I could sit at home when all the big things go down. Can you hand me that sock over there?"

Lupin picked up a purple paisley sock from the floor and took it over to her. "But what if…?"

"Thanks." She took the sock from him and sat down on the bed with it's twin to put them on. "And 'what if' nothing. I'm sure we'll be back in time for his six a.m. feeding, you know how stupid those Death Eaters are. Just think, Remus, in a few years we can tell our babies that we were there the night Voldemort fell. Maybe Teddy'll want to bring in my wand for show and tell!" Tonks finished lacing her trainers and got to her feet. "All right, then. Got your wand?"

"Yes."

"Come on then, let's go!"

Tonks and Lupin trouped into the hall, where Andromeda stood at the top of the steps, looking pale as a ghost. They tried to go around her, but she edged in front of her daughter and son-in-law. "Just wait. Just wait right there." she said in a quiet voice.

"Oi, Mum, we've got to--"

"No. No, Nymphadora, you don't have to go anywhere. You need to stay right here with your son, that's what you need to do."

Tonks reached for her mother's arm, but she pulled it away. "How can you do this?" she asked loudly, voice wavering. "Isn't the most important thing in the world your family? Your son?"

"Of course it is. But isn't it equally as important that my family is able to live in a safe and peaceful world?"

"You belong with your son."

"My son belongs in a world free of the threat of death because of what's in his blood."

The elder and younger Tonks stared at each other for a long time. "Nymphadora…."

"Mummy." Tonks wrapped her arms around her mother. "Please, Mum, don't cry. Stay here with Teddy. Make yourself a cuppa; I can't imagine we'll be long. When we get back, we'll celebrate!" She squeezed her mother tight. "It's a good night, Mum, I promise."

A soft sound came from Teddy's room. The three adults looked at the door, which was slightly ajar.

"I think the master is awake." Lupin said with a smile, following as Tonks and Andromeda went into the nursery. The light from the hallway cast a gentle glow around the dark room.

"What are you doing awake?" Tonks said, lifting her son from the crib and smiling down at him. The tiny baby with the soft turquoise hair blinked in the light, then rubbed at his eyes with his tiny fist. She laughed and kissed his downy head. "That's what I thought."

"May I?" Lupin asked, reaching for his son.

"Of course." Tonks said, passing him over.

Lupin cradled him in his arm. "Well, Theodore, when you see us next, we'll have some exciting stories to tell you. Your godfather's having a very special party tonight that we're going to. Can you say 'Order of the Phoenix?'" Teddy just yawned. Lupin chuckled gently and kissed his forehead. "Good night, little man. In the morning, we'll send out a proper birth announcement for you. We won't have to hide anymore."

He passed the baby back to Tonks, who kissed both of his chubby cheeks. "Sleep good, little cub. Don't give Gramma a hard time. Mummy and Daddy will see you in the morning."

Andromeda took the baby from Tonks. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I'm sure, Mum. Can you say 'Order of The Phoenix?'" She smiled. "Don't worry. And have the champagne ready for when we get back."

They all walked together down the stairs and to the front door, where Lupin and Tonks exchanged hugs and well-wishes with Andromeda. On the front stoop, Tonks turned and blew her son and her mother a kiss. "Don't wait up, you two. It's a great night to kick some ass."

Wands at the ready, Lupin and Tonks walked towards the road, the same was his journey for provisions had begun barely an hour before. When they were almost to the gate, they turned on the spot. Andromeda watched as they disappeared, then took the baby back inside and shut the door.

* * *

**Author's Note: **R.I.P Lupin and Tonks. sad face

Thanks to the lovely ladies (I'm assuming!) that reviewed the last chapter: MissCassiebaby, mommato2beauties, and ScarletLuna. Much appreciated!


	5. Arthur, Molly & Ginny

"_We will fight! We'll have to reach the snake! But let's not lose sight now of what we're supposed to be d-doing! We're the only ones who can end it!"_

--Hermione Granger

Molly checked the lock on the kitchen door for the twentieth time since supper. Even though she knew, deep down, that locks really afforded no protection from anyone with a wand and a bit of determination, it still made her feel better. In the three days since they had returned to The Burrow under every Disillusionment and protective charm that she and Arthur could think of, she had barely been able to sleep for more than an hour or so at a time without running downstairs to check the locks.

After a long, torturous conversation, Arthur and Molly had decided that five of them under Muriel's roof had been too great a risk, too big a target. So, they had taken Ginny and returned home, leaving Fred and George with Muriel. Now she asked herself almost hourly if that had been a good idea. The house, which had always felt so cosy and safe before, now felt too large and empty. At every turn of the narrow staircase and behind every piece of furniture, Molly pictured a Death Eater lying in wait, wand at the ready and a killing curse on their lips. Shadows in the corner were threatening to give her a coronary. The days passed by, agonisingly slow, with little news from the rest of the family or the Order. Waiting for the other shoe to drop was excruciating.

She tiptoed into the scullery with a basket of wash, eager to lose herself in the rubbing on the washboard and the handfuls of slippery soap. Almost all the chores were being done the Muggle way now, solely to help ease her drawn nerves.

"_Aguamenti." _she whispered, using her wand to fill up the large washbasin on the counter. It was a slow process, for which she was thankful.

Once the basin was full, she got her washboard and the soap down from the cupboard and added a small handful of clothes to the water. Rolling up her sleeves and bracing for the chill, she lathered her hands with the slimy tan soap and eased them beneath the surface of the water, careful not to splatter on her apron.

For a long time, the only sounds were the rhythmic scrubbing of clothes on the washboard and the quiet splashing of the water in the basin. She scoured her apron and Arthur's socks, Ginny's old Quidditch robes and a jumper of Ron's she had found behind the sofa in the sitting room. When these things were scrupulously clean and thoroughly soaked, she carefully ran each item through the mangle, finally hanging them up on the short length of rope that Arthur had strung up for her, so they could finish drying.

She added a few more articles to the water-- a few towels that she was pretty sure were already clean, a pair of George's old knicks she had wrestled away from the cat, and a jacket of Ginny's. Once more, she plunged her hands into the water and began to wash. All at once, she stopped, confused. Her hands had just brushed across something warm on the bottom of the basin. She peered into the water, but the wet laundry and piles of bubbles obscured her view, so she felt along the bottom of the washbasin until she found it again.

Molly brought her hands out of the water, looking curiously at them as water ran off of her arms and back onto the counter. She was holding a Galleon between her fingers, and while that wasn't so unusual, what was odd was the fact that it was so warm, especially considering it had just taken a very cold bath. She had just put it down, deciding to chalk it up to a Fred and George invention, when it caught the light. Forehead furrowed in concentration, she brought it closer to her face, studying the odd writing she had just noticed on it's surface.

_H/R/H inside Hogwarts_, it read. _Apparate into Hog's Head. Directions there. Tonight we fight back._

_H/R/H? Could that mean Harry, Ron and Hermione? _she thought. _Inside Hogwarts? Fighting?_ Something in her brain fired then, as though it was trying to forge a connection. There was something strangely familiar about all this, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Once again, she went to set the Galleon down and continue her wash, but something turned over in her stomach. She took the Galleon and started for the stairs.

"Arthur?" She paused outside of bedroom door, listening to the quiet rustling of paper. "Arthur?"

"Come in."

He was sitting in front of the blacked-out window, reading _The Daily Prophet _by lamplight with an exceedingly grim look on his face. The expression softened significantly as Molly entered the room. "Hello dear, how's the washing?"

_"_Arthur, look what I found." She held the Galleon out to him, and he plucked it from her fingers, studying it closely above his reading glasses.

"This is odd; it's warm." He turned it over in his hand, looking at with a bemused expression. "Wait, what's this?" With an adjustment to his spectacles, he pulled it closer and read the words printed on the side, mouthing the words.

"Well, what do you think?" Molly asked anxiously when he finally turned his gaze back to her. Instead of responding, he got to his feet and started for the stairs. She followed closely behind him.

"Arthur? Arthur, what is it? What do you make of it?" she asked, following him down to the second floor and down the short hallway, to a closed door. "Arthur, what--"

"Ginny?" he called, tapping quickly on the door. "Ginny?"

"Yeah?" came the voice, slightly muffled behind the closed door.

"May I come in?"

"It's open."

Ginny stood in the middle of the room, wand in hand. A book on defensive spells was propped open on her quilt, and her windows were blacked out as well. Pigwidgeon twittered excitedly in his cage, which was perched on top of a small bookshelf near the bed. She looked alarmed at the sight of both of her parents. "What's happened?"

"Ginny," Arthur said, holding the Galleon out to his youngest child. "Do you know what this is?"

She took it from him and looked at its smooth surface closely.. "It's… it's my DA Galleon." There was a triumphant, almost defiant look on her face as she looked up at her parents. "Neville must have sent me this message. Harry, Ron and Hermione must be in the castle!"

"Are you sure--"

At that moment, here was a loud bang from below, and the whole house shook. Molly shrieked. All the colour drained from Arthur's face as he yanked his wand from his sleeve. "Stay here." he croaked, and hurried to the stairs once more, with Molly and Ginny hot on his heels.

When they arrived in the kitchen, they found Aunt Muriel, who was in a heap on the floor, struggling to get up.

"Muriel!" Molly cried, rushing to help the ancient witch to her feet. "What's happened, where are Fred and George?!"

"Left!" screeched Muriel, her face flushed red as Gurdyroot juice. "I told those good-for-nothing sons of yours to find out what was burning down my house, then I'm looking out my window at the hedgerow and I see them running out into the yard to Disapparate!"

"Burning? What are you do you mean, Aunt Muriel?" Ginny asked.

She threw her hands into the air in exasperation. "Really, Ginevra, don't they teach you anything at that school? Something was burning, in my house!"

Molly and Arthur turned to each other just as Ginny burst out, "The DA Galleon! Theirs must have been somewhere they couldn't feel it, and it got too hot!"

"But that must mean--" Arthur began.

"They got the message too! It's true! We're going to fight!" Ginny cried, waving her wand in the air like a flag. "Come on, we've got to get to the Hog's Head."

She wrenched open the door and ran out into the dark garden, brandishing her wand like a bayonet.

"Where are you going?" Muriel called, watching as Molly and Arthur charged after her. The three Weasleys disappeared just beyond the border of the yard. With a throaty cackle, she secured the kitchen door again and, with surprising alacrity, liberated a bottle of Arthur's good whiskey from the sideboard.

Settling into the sofa in the sitting room, she took a swig from the bottle and smacked her lips contentedly. It was time to celebrate. Tonight would be a night to remember.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'd hoped this story would be a little more popular :) But that's all right, I'm still having a good time writing it, even if no one is reading.

I the Weasleys.


	6. Kingsley

"_I managed to make contact with Aberforth and he tipped me off ten minutes ago that Hogwarts was going to make a fight of it, so here I am."_

_-- _Percy Weasley

Loud music and raucous laughter spilled from the seedy pub on the corner. The streetlight-- one of the few that worked on this block-- cast a harsh light on the cracked sidewalk in front of him. He kept to the shadows just beyond the pool of orange light, standing against the dirty stucco façade of an abandoned building, unmoving. He was waiting.

A pair of noisy, cackling girls turned the corner at that moment, wearing high heels and a lot of eye makeup. He still did not move, even as they passed right by him, talking very loudly.

"--and I says to Lorraine, it's about time this bloody effing fog cleared up, it's-- oh, hey!"

They had noticed him, and stopped short. Now they were coming up to him, eager smiles on their faces.

"Hey, mister, whatchoo got?"

"Pardon?" he asked in his slow, deep voice.

"I said, whatchoo got?" the taller of the two, a brassy brunette with garish red lipstick, asked.

"I'm sorry, you must be mistaken." he said politely. "I haven't got anything."

The two girls looked at each other and laughed. It was harsh, grating sound. Kingsley was reminded of how much he disliked being alone in Muggle London.

The shorter one, a bottle blonde wearing what looked like a purple dragon-hide jacket, took a few steps closer. "We ain't coppers, love." she said, smiling winningly and exposing two rows of crooked teeth. "We're just looking to have a good time."

"Yeah." said the other, also drawing closer. "I'm a Charlie girl, myself, if you've got any."

"I really have no idea what you're talking about." he replied simply. From his vantage point, he could see a white and black car driving slowly up the next block, the rack of lights on its' roof just visible.

The girls in front of him were beginning to get agitated.

"Hey, _man_, you got a problem?" said the brunette, pressing a lacquered fingernail into the lapel of his long black coat. "Think you're too_ good _to conduct business with us? Just because we're white?"

He regarded her calmly with his dark eyes. "Miss, I've been trying to tell you, you're mistaken."

Without warning, the red-head swung at him. He caught her wrist firmly and held it tight so she couldn't wrench it free and try again. That's when she began to scream, and her friend kicked up a racket as well.

Red and blue lights snapped on as the black and white car came to a stop in the road in front of them. Kingsley sighed inwardly and released his grip on the red-head's wrist.

"What's going on here?" a tall man in a blue uniform said, stepping out of the car.

"This man's trying to assault my friend! Just because we don't want to buy his drugs!" screeched the brunette, eyes welling up with convincing tears.

"Is that so?" Another officer got out of the cruiser and approached Kingsley, hand on the butt of his baton. "Let her go!"

"I have." Kingsley said, holding his hands in front of him.

"Oh, looks like we got ourselves a smartarse, Farnham." said the taller man, pulling his baton from his belt.

There was a loud bang and a flash of cool blue light. In the confusion, Kingsley darted into the dark mouth of the alley next to the stucco building, moving quickly away from the street. Behind him, he could hear the girls screaming and the police calling for him to halt. He stepped behind an overflowing, foul-smelling rubbish bin and quickly cast a Disillusionment charm over himself.

A bare second later, the two men came to a stop a few steps away, guns and flashlights drawn. Their faces were anxious, eyes searching the dark walls and the garbage-strewn ground.

"He's not back here." the shorter one said after a moment.

"He's got to be. It dead-ends right there." He shined his light on the blank brick wall a few meters beyond. "Check the bins."

Kingsley stepped stealthily back as the officer came closer to him, peering behind the bin. "There's nothing here. It just smells like cat piss."

"Do you think he went in the building?" the other cop asked, resting the beam of his flashlight onto a padlocked metal door in the side of the stucco building. "Its effing locked. How do you suppose he got inside?"

"Maybe he's a bloody magician. Didja ever see something like that thing with the light and the smoke?"

"No. How're we going to write that up in our report?"

"'Choo outta yer tree? We're not going to mention that in our report at all."

"Good idea." He jerked his head towards the door. "D'ya think we should check it out?"

He held his flashlight on the lock as his partner removed some sort of rubber-handled tool from his belt and went to work on it. After a minute or so, he pulled the door open with a high-pitched, rusty squeal. Then they disappeared inside.

Still under the charm, Kingsley walked easily back out to the street, just in time to see the two girls jumping into the abandoned police car and driving away, laughing uproariously as they sped down the street. He crossed the street and turned the corner outside the pub, quickly putting distance between himself and the two officers running around in an abandoned building.

After a few blocks, he stopped beneath a burned-out streetlamp and removed the charm. Then he waited once more.

It only took a few minutes for someone else to appear on the street, hurrying up the block from the direction he had just came from. He watched them closely, hand on his wand. Then the stranger looked up, and he relaxed.

"Kingsley!" Hestia Jones said, coming to a stop in front of him. "I was worried; you weren't at the usual place."

He quickly told her about his run-in with the two girls and the police. "I'm glad you found me, though."

"Me too. I got word from Arthur-- Kingsley, tonight's the night. Harry's inside the castle. We're supposed to meet at the Hog's Head. There's a way into Hogwarts there. We're going to fight."

A slow smile spread across Kingsley's face. "About time. Not enough excitement out here."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I got stuck on the another chapter, so I skipped ahead to Kingsley-- these really don't belong in any particular order anyway. At least not until towards the end.

Couple of things on this chapter: I can totally picture Kingsley, whilst hiding on the streets of Muggle London, looking an awful lot like a drug dealer. And I know jack about the drug culture, so I resorted looking on teh intranetz for drug slang. I couldn't find much that I could make work, so, just to let you know, the girls are trying to by cocaine from Kingsley.

I borrowed the name Farnham from the Stephen King short story "Crouch End", in which there was a young police officer, P.C. Farnham who dismissed "weird" things as rubbish.

Finally, thanks to those of you who reviewed the last chapter: Alexandrus W. Pendragon, ivanovandevotee, imagine.create.wonder and mommato2beauties. I am much obliged.


	7. Luna & Dean

"_Of course that's what it means, isn't it, Harry? We're going to fight them out of Hogwarts."_

-- Luna Lovegood

She lay very still, the grass soft and cool beneath her. Above, the ribbon of sky that she could see was a perfect shade of blue-black, and a hundred tiny stars glittered there. The water rushing over the rocks seemed to sing softly to her in her mother's voice.

_Far away across the ocean, underneath an Indian star_

_Dwells a dark-eyed lonely maiden, on the coast of Malabar._

There was a rustling behind her, but she was not frightened, not here. A moment later, someone sat down on the ground beside to her.

"Luna?"

She turned her head slightly to the side. "Hello, Dean."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Dinner's ready."

"Thank you, I'll be along in a minute. It's very peaceful here, don't you think?"

He surveyed the grassy banks of the small stream on which they sat. Behind them, a young forest offered camouflage for their tent and a fire. He wasn't too keen on hiding from the opposition in a place without heavily fortified walls, especially considering the events of the past few weeks, but it was nice and still here. "You're right."

She settled herself back and continued to watch the sky, humming very softly to herself. "Oh look!" she said, pointing straight up. "A shooting star!"

He tilted his head back, but saw nothing. "I think I missed it."

"That's all right. There will be more."

Dean tipped his chin back to earth and looked at Luna, really looked at her, laying on her back with her silvery eyes staring up, a dreamy half-smile on her face like she didn't have a care in the world, despite the fact that her face was cut and bruised and her arms scratched and her ribs sticking out and her eye black. Was it possible that she believed what she'd just said? Was it really true that she held out hope? Did she honestly think, after all was said and done, they'd be alive, let alone safe enough to watch the sky for shooting stars? He couldn't fathom this. It's not that he was pessimistic, he told himself. Just realistic. When he thought of the future, a future beyond a couple of weeks ahead, all that met him was a cold, solid blank, like a concrete wall or the inside of a casket. He had become strangely accustomed to this, even if he wasn't ready to admit defeat outright. "Yeah." he said simply.

After a little while, she got to her feet, and held out her hand to him. "Are you ready to eat?"

"Yeah." He accepted her outstretched hand, and she helped haul him to his feet. Together, they walked back through the patch of woods to their campsite, which was deep in the thicket, concealed both by nature and a horde of protective enchantments. They had to crawl through a tangle of underbrush to reach the tent, which was only a small Muggle model he had nicked from a sporting goods store.

Dean had built a tiny fire and cooked the contents of two cans of sardines, which he'd put with slices of tough sourdough. Luna sat cross-legged in the mouth of the tent, scooping fish from her tin plate into her mouth with two fingers. He just poked at his, not really feeling any desire to eat it. Or smell it. Or look at it.

"Wrackspurts?" she asked knowingly. "You haven't had much to say, and I daresay they've been all around you since we set up camp."

"Huh? Oh, uh, no. Just thinking."

"What about?" she asked brightly.

He sighed. "Nothing."

She tilted her head, looking at him quizzically. "You're awfully serious to not be thinking of anything."

He pushed a piece of bread roughly across his plate, then looked up at her. "I'm thinking about what's going on, Luna. About what will happen. About what happens when-- _if,_" he corrected himself harshly. "_If _we get caught. You're hurt, and I don't have a wand."

"I think it will be all right, Dean."

"I wish I had your faith."

She continued to look at him, sucking thoughtfully on her bottom lip. "But you know Harry just as well as I do."

"I have faith in him. It's just what he'd up against… well, that sucks the hope out of the equation for me. And not knowing is making it even worse."

Her hand darted across the space between them and laid on his own, squeezing it. "Are you frightened?" she whispered.

After a long moment, he nodded. Suddenly, the forest swam before his eyes and his throat felt very thick. "Yes." he choked. "I don't want to do this any more. I want to go home." Embarrassed, he swiped angrily at his eyes, but the tears would not stop. He heard movement, and then she was holding him tightly, her chin resting on his head, the way his mother used to when he was much younger.

"Soon, it will all be over. Soon, we can all go home." she said close to his ear, clutching him close, rocking him slightly, very maternal. And then she began to sing to him. It was a song he hadn't heard in a long time, since his mum had sang it to his brothers and sisters when they were small. It made him desperately homesick, but there was something about her sweet, off-key voice that also consoled him. For that moment, he felt strangely safe.

_Oh fare thee well, my little dark-eyed queen, fare thee well, my Indian star_

_In my heart you'll live forever, on the coast of Malabar _

They sat like that for a while, until finally he pulled away, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. "I'm sorry." he said, clearing his throat.

"Don't be. We're friends."

He nodded. "We are. And thank you."

"You're-- oh! Dean, look!" she gasped, pointing into the distance. His heart leapt into his throat as he spun around, expecting to see a swarm of Death Eater running up from the creek bottom. Instead, a silvery horse galloped soundlessly towards them.

"I think it's Ginny's!" Luna said elatedly, jumping to her feet as the horse came to a stop a few feet away from them.

"Harry and the others are inside Hogwarts." the Patronus said in Ginny's voice, which sounded anxious and excited. "Apparate into the Hog's Head and meet the rest of us. We're going to fight."

Dean was on his feet before the horse had disappeared. His heart was hammering in his chest, but the blood that surged through his veins and pounded in his ears seemed to repeat the word "hope" over and over. He stomped out the campfire and grabbed up his backpack, stuffing the tin plates inside as Luna used her wand to collapse the tent and fold it into a tiny square, which she stuck into her pocket.

"Come on!" Dean called eagerly, taking her hands and turning quickly on the spot. They disappeared with a loud pop which quickly faded, leaving no evidence that anyone had been there at all.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Wow, so, I don't know why I haven't updated this is a month. Anyway, I don't really remember Luna being particularly fond of singing in canon, but when I write her, she sings. Somehow it just seems fitting. Thanks to those of you who reviewed my last chapter: LauraWalden, Alexandrus W Pendragon, and the six awesome reviews I got from Strawberry-Swirls.


	8. Charlie

"_Braggarts and rogues, dogs and scoundrels, drive them out, Harry Potter, see them off!"_

-- Sir Cadogan

Charlie waved his hands above his head, but they did either ignored him or didn't see. "Whoa!" he shouted, stabbing the air with his finger. "Watch the leg, it's getting caught-- whoa, _whoa_!"

With a swear, he jumped down from the ridge of rock on which he'd been supervising the scene and ran over to the angry Chinese Fireball. Its' jaws clicked sharply in the heavy muzzle, and it exhaled heavily, pushing hot ashy air out through narrow nostrils. Though only a juvenile, the dragon's left hind leg was still the size of a tree trunk, and currently tangled in two thick leather leads. Two wizards in heavy dragon-hide gloves and full-coverage cloaks were arguing loudly over whose fault it had been, while the other two just watched.

"Stow it." Charlie said firmly, taking hold of the leads and easing them cautiously off of the dragon's red, scaly leg, taking care to stay out of range of the long talons. "Sweet Godric, do you fancy losing a limb tonight, Magihar?" he asked, tossing a line back to the narrow-faced wizard with the scruffy beard. "Or your life, Antonescu?" He lobbed the other line to the squat, beetle-browed man next to him. Both men grumbled negative responses. "Well, pay attention, then."

He wiped his forehead on his sleeve and climbed nimbly back up onto the rock, waving them on. Slowly, Magihar, Antonescu and the two other wizards that held the leads began walking, and the dragon had little choice but to follow. Moving the dragons across the compound was relatively easy, as long as everyone stayed vigilant; it was much like walking a large, lethal dog. When they tried to put them into crates for long journeys… well, that was when it started to get exciting.

Charlie had been anxious all through the long day, and his nerves felt frayed. Even though it was late and he typically would be lusting after his pillow at this point, he was still full of nervous energy, as evidenced in the way he paced up and down the large rock formation that jutted from the forest floor. His eyes darted quickly from the sluggish pace of the Chinese Fireball to the campsite, where most everyone had hunkered down for the evening, to the sky, which was covered in high, patchy clouds. He stared hard at it, as though sheer force of will could make an owl or Patronus appear, bearing news. As usual, though, it was in vain.

Shouts drew his attention, and his head whipped towards the source of the sound. Somehow, Antonescu had lost hold of his lead, and now the dragon was rearing up, dragging McNichol into the air. Charlie drew his wand and hit the ground running, firing spells as the dragon swiped it's long talons at the wizard clinging to the thick leather rope for dear life.

"_Incarcerous_!" he shouted, but the spell was deflected by the thick hide. "McNichol, let go!" Charlie called, dropping down to his knees and trying to centre a spell at the Fireball's underbelly.

"No! It'll crush me!" McNichol protested, trying without success to brace his boots again the dragon's side and scale it like a mountain, out of reach of the talons.

"Would you rather it decapitate you?" Charlie yelled as the razor-sharp claws missed McNichol by bare inches. "Just drop!" But he wouldn't listen. Swearing, Charlie decided to change tactics. "Magihar! Howell!" he called to the wizards struggling with the leads on the other side of the animal. "Pull down hard! Count of three!"

He counted out loud and then, as the two men pulled down on the opposite side, darted forward and jumped up, catching the loose rope by sheer luck. He wound it around his upper body and yanked backwards with all his might, feeling the thick leather cut sharply into his skin and put a vise grip on his lungs as he struggled back, forcing the air from him. But it was enough to bring the dragon back down on all fours.

"Weasley! 'ey, Weasley, you all right?" a concerned voice asked, and he was partially aware of someone unwrapping the lead from his shoulders and taking it from his hands, and someone else helping him to the ground as he gasped for air.

"Oi, Charlie, that was effing stupid!" a female voice with a thick Irish accent said jovially. "Stupid, but effective." She prised an eye open. "You okay in there?"

"Fine." he wheezed, squeezing his eyes shut again and attempting to fill his lungs with air.

"Here, drink this." said a new voice, bringing a bottle to his lips. "It's water."

He sipped and choked, still fighting to draw a full breath. After a minute or two, he was able to sit up and open his eyes. McNichol, though shaken, had both his feet back on solid ground and the strap still in his hands. Three or four other men had secured lead ropes to the dragon's harness, and were moving it towards the enclosure at the opposite end of the clearing. Antonescu was standing a little ways away, looking down at his boots. An enormous man with a thick black beard, the camp master, was standing over him, talking quickly and angrily. Standing above him were two people from the camp; Ailis, the Irish witch, and a quiet wizard named Burgess. Both were watching the dragon.

Another minute passed, and he felt good enough to stand up slowly.

Ailis, Burgess, Antonescu and the camp master all turned to him, but before any of them could speak, someone called his name.

"Charlie!" he looked up. A compact, wiry witch named Elizabeth was jogging from the campsite, face flushed and eyes wide as saucers. "Charlie!" she called, pointing passionately back to the camp. She drew to a stop a few feet away, breathing heavily. "I think you'd better come see this."

Something in her face made him follow her, running as best he could, back to the nearly deserted village of tents. She led him around the large campfire and into the tall blue tent that served as headquarters. Inside the substantial room that greatly resembled an elaborate hunting lodge, two ghostly foxes sat, uninterested, in the middle of the wide plank floor. Their large ears, only three between them, perked up as Charlie entered the tent.

"Oi, 'bout time." said the fox on the right, in Fred's voice.

"Right." replied the one missing an ear, in George's voice. "Harry and Hermione--"

"And Ron, don't forget ickle Ronniekins."

"And Ron, yeah, they're inside Hogwarts."

"Tonight's the night, big brother. Get to The Hog's Head."

"Yeah, Aberforth'll show you the way in."

"We're fighting." the foxes said in unison, and then burst into a thousand silvery particles that disappeared as quickly as they had materialised.

"My wand." Charlie said, patting his shirt and pants. "I must have lost my wand when I went down."

"I'll get it." Elizabeth said, and tore off out of the tent. When she returned a few minutes later, wand in hand, Charlie took it from her with shaking hands.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" she asked breathlessly.

He nodded. "It's what we've been waiting for." He kissed the side of her mouth on his way out of the tent. "Keep an eye on things for me. I'll be back soon."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I think I took some liberties with Patronus capabilities, but JK never said for sure whether or not they'd wait to deliver their message while the intended recipient was located, LOL, or whether they could travel from Britain to Romania. So let's just pretend that they can.

Thanks very much those who reviewed the last chapter: Strawberry-Swirls, padsy and Gray-Eyed Beauty. Rock on!


	9. McGonagall

"_I know that you are preparing to fight."_

-- Lord Voldemort

"Alecto! ALECTO!" a most unpleasant voice echoed from above.

Minerva McGonagall's lips were pressed tightly together in a thin, bloodless line. She lifted the hem of her old tartan dressing down and followed the sound of the shouting, up the hundreds of twisting steps that led to Ravenclaw Tower. The snarling expletives was broken occasionally loud pounding, which increased steadily in volume as she drew closer to the top of the spiral staircase. There, at the arched door set into the stone wall, a stooped, uneven-looking man with greasy, unkempt hair was shouting down the bronze eagle doorknocker, the only thing that broke the smooth expanse of wood.

"May I ask what you are doing, Professor Carrow?"

The man turned to her, his small, mean eyes staring out from a lumpy face, like a potato. She looked down at him, feeling nothing but utter revulsion. "Trying to get through this damned door!" he shouted, giving it a swift kick. "Go and get Flitwick! Get him to open it, now!"

"But isn't your sister in there? Didn't Professor Flitwick let her in earlier this evening, at your urgent request? Perhaps she could open the door for you. Then you needn't wake up half the castle."

"She ain't answering, you old besom! You open it. Garn, do it now!"

"Certainly, if you wish it." she replied, sweeping passed him and tapping authoritatively on the door.

"Where do Vanished objects go?" the eagle knocker asked in a pleasant, melodious voice.

Professor McGonagall shot a look of disdain over her shoulder, then turned back to the door. "Into nonbeing, which is to say, everything."

"Nicely phrased." the eagle replied, and the door swung open.

Carrow elbowed his way in front of her, hurrying into the Ravenclaw Common Room with his wand drawn. Eight or ten students in pyjamas ran for the dormitories as he caught sight of a large, motionless object sprawled on the midnight-blue carpet. It was a remarkably similar-looking woman, with stringy greying hair and a round, gormless-looking face. He stood over her, snarling.

"What've they done to her, the little whelps. I'll Cruciate the lot of them till they tell me who did it-- and what's the Dark Lord going to say?" he raged and Professor McGonagall stooped down to examine Alecto Carrow. "We haven't got him--"

"She's only Stunned, she'll be perfectly all right." she said, raising to her feet and looking towards the statue of Ravenclaw. She'd thought she had seen something, some sort of strange motion there.

"No, she bludgering well won't be!" Amycus screamed. "Not after the Dark Lord gets a hold of her. She's gorn and sent for him, I felt me Mark burn, and he thinks we've got Potter!"

She turned at the sound of the name, narrowing her eyes at the short, broad man. "'Got Potter'? What do you mean, 'got Potter'?"

"He told us Potter might try and get inside Ravenclaw Tower, and to send for him if we caught him."

Professor McGonagall advanced on Carrow, staring sharply into his face. "Why would Harry Potter try to get inside Ravenclaw Tower? Potter belongs in my House!"

Carrow backed up a step, almost tripping over his sister's prone form. "We was told he might come in here. I dunno why, do I?" After a moment, his face brightened. "We can push it off on the kids, yeah, that's what we'll do. We'll say Alecto was ambushed by them kids up there, and we'll say they forced her to press her Mark, and that's why he got a false alarm. He can punish them! Couple of kids more or less, what's the difference?"

Professor McGonagall's blood had turned to ice in her veins. "Only the difference between truth and lied, courage and cowardice, a difference, in short, which you and your sister seem unable to appreciate." She drew herself up to her full height, her voice quiet and perilous. "But let me make one thing very clear. You are not going to pass off your many ineptitudes on the students of Hogwarts. I shall not permit it."

"Excuse me?"

Amycus moved forward, until he could have embraced Professor McGonagall. His breath was hot and stinking on her cheek, but she would not look away, staring down at him hatred and disgust boiling away the fear she had felt at the thought of Voldemort coming into Hogwarts. The time for action, she felt, was exquisitely close. And she was prepared.

"It's not a case of what you'll permit, Minerva McGonagall." Carrow said, stabbing the air in front of their faces with one fat finger. "Your time's over. It's us what's in charge here now, and you'll back me up or you'll pay the price." With that, he spat in her face.

There was a flurry of activity just to their right, and Professor McGonagall's rapidly beating heart seemed to falter at the sight of Harry Potter, who had appeared out of seemingly thin air, wand drawn at Carrow and a dangerous look on his face. "You shouldn't have done that."

Carrow moved a fraction of an inch toward him, but Potter was too quick. "_Crucio!_"

And the tower room seemed suddenly very far away. Professor McGonagall watched the Death Eater screaming and writhing in pain as if through a telescope, feeling as though she was rapidly losing her senses, until finally Carrow crashed into a bookcase and slumped to the floor, still conscious but only barely.

Potter wiped his forehead with his hand, staring at the man. "I see what Bellatrix meant, you need to really mean it."

"Potter!" Professor McGonagall whispered, hand pressed to her thin chest. "Potter, you're-- here. What… how…." She shook her heard smartly, trying to clear the fog. "Potter, that was foolish!"

The boy gave a quick shrug. "He spat at you."

She stared at him in surprise, still half-expecting to awake from some sort of delirious dream. "Potter, I-- that was very… very _gallant _of you, but don't you realize--"

"Yes, I do." he said, nodding. "Professor McGonagall, Voldemort's on the way."

Luna Lovegood appeared next to him at that moment, holding a balled-up cloak in one hand. "Oh, are we allowed to say the name now?" she asked, with mild interest.

Once again, Professor McGonagall was sure that she was caught in some flight of fancy, and that she'd wake up soon, either in her bed or chained up in the dungeon. Nothing would surprise her at this point, she thought as she sank into a nearby chair. But after many steadying breaths, she was still sitting in Ravenclaw Tower, with Potter and Lovegood standing at her side, speaking to each other in quick, anxious tones.

"You must flee." she interrupted. "Now, Potter, as quickly as you can."

"I can't. There's something I need to do." And then he told her a remarkable thing. He was acting on Dumbledore's orders, searching for the diadem of Ravenclaw.

"You're acting on _Dumbledore's _orders?" she repeated, her astonishment fading quickly to vigilance. "Then we shall secure the school against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named while you search for this… object."

"Is that possible?"

Professor McGonagall drew her wand from the sleeve of her dressing gown and rose to her feet. "I think so. We teachers are rather good at magic, you know. I am sure we will be able to hold him off for awhile of we all put our best efforts into it." And with that, she tapped her wand thoughtfully against her angular chin. Yes, this was just what Hogwarts had been waiting for. People to make a stand.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I always thought the image of McGonagall in Ravenclaw Tower, clutching at her chest when Harry appears from beneath the Invisibility Cloak, was so awesome. This isn't any great shakes, just a scene JKR wrote from a different point of view, but it was fun.

Thanks to those who reviewed since the last update: Toph081894, Strawberry-Swirls, and SkyLilies.


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